Chapter 70: Christmas Eve — A Romantic Snowy Night
The hospital. In a slightly deserted VIP ward sat an elderly man in his twilight years.
Qi Nanshan sat in a wheelchair facing the window; outside lay the gray city skyline. His temples were gray, and his once-straight back was now slightly hunched. From time to time, he let out a suppressed cough.
Hearing steady footsteps behind him, he pressed his hand to his chest, paused, and slowly turned his wheelchair. When he saw the obvious injuries on the visitor’s face and the hand wrapped in gauze, Qi Nanshan’s brows furrowed deeply. A trace of disapproval flashed through his clouded eyes.
“Getting yourself into such a state for a man.” Qi Nanshan’s voice was raspy with the weakness of long illness, yet still commanded authority without anger. “Acting so reckless and impulsive… how are you different from your good-for-nothing father?”
Jiang Yan’s eyes turned cold instantly, his jawline tightening. “Don’t mention him in front of me.”
He spoke stiffly, “I’m not like him.”
Qi Nanshan looked at him deeply. Those eyes, which had seen everything in the world, remained sharp, easily piercing through all disguises. “Pull yourself together. We’re only one step away; it’s time to go back.”
“Qi Sheng can’t be left in chaos any longer.”
Jiang Yan remained silent, casting his gaze out the window, not answering immediately.
“What are you still hesitating for?” Qi Nanshan’s aged fingers tapped lightly on the armrest of the wheelchair, carrying an invisible pressure. “If you delay any longer, by the time your uncle realizes, Qi Sheng might change masters.”
“It’s not time yet.” Jiang Yan finally spoke, his voice steady and devoid of emotion. “I have people watching Qi Liangji closely. Once the matter is done, I will naturally return.”
Qi Nanshan narrowed his eyes. The dim light in the ward cast shadows on his face. “I’m afraid it’s not that simple, is it?”
“Is it because of that young man again?”
Jiang Yan’s lips pressed into a pale, straight line. The hand hanging by his side curled, showing signs of cracking the wound under the gauze. Silence stretched for fully ten seconds; only Qi Nanshan’s slightly rapid breathing remained in the ward.
“Since your health is poor, just focus on recovering.” Finally, Jiang Yan avoided the sharp question, his voice low. “I will handle the rest.”
Christmas Eve arrived quickly. University students always held infinite longing for romantic holidays. The night wind carried a biting chill but couldn’t blow away the overflowing enthusiasm of the young people. The South District Stadium was particularly lively that night.
Laughter and dynamic music drifted faintly from that direction. People were dancing around speakers, silhouettes of night joggers darted by, and small stalls selling apples dotted the area. Glowing lights decorated the scene, filling it with festive atmosphere.
Jiang Yunian walked slowly into the soccer field as promised. He rarely came here in his spare time; after his parents passed away, he was busy alone with studies and part-time jobs, hardly having such leisure time. From a distance, he saw Lu Yuanbai standing by the goalpost, his posture upright, holding a delicate small box in his hand.
Seeing him approach, Lu Yuanbai smiled and waved. Jiang Yunian quickened his pace slightly. Although his left foot still felt a little uncomfortable, he walked steadily.
“Did you wait long, Senior?” Jiang Yunian walked up to him, his voice soft and tinged with shyness.
“Just arrived.” Lu Yuanbai naturally reached out to fix the bangs on his forehead that had been messed up by the wind. Then he handed over the paper bag in his hand. “I picked it for a long time. I hope this is the best-looking one, and I hope it’s the sweetest… For you. Peace and joy.”
Inside the paper bag was a beautifully packaged apple; its bright red skin promised it wouldn’t disappoint.
“Thank you… but I didn’t prepare an apple…” Jiang Yunian took it, a warmth surging in his heart. He squeezed the small paper bag he had been holding in his hand. “Is this okay?”
A trace of surprise flashed through Lu Yuanbai’s eyes. Inside was a hand-knitted pure blue scarf. The stitches were fine and neat, soft to the touch. In the corner, a small white bear pattern was carefully embroidered—simple yet chic.
“Yunian, I like it very much.” There was obvious delight in Lu Yuanbai’s voice. He picked up the scarf, his fingertips brushing over the detailed texture. “Did you knit this for a long time?”
As he spoke, he took Jiang Yunian’s hand. Sure enough, on the pad of his right middle finger, there was a small, reddish-brown mark—obviously left by the repeated friction and pressure of the crochet hook. His thumb stroked that patch of skin. “Does it hurt?”
Jiang Yunian wasn’t used to having his hand held so intimately. He wanted to pull back, but the other held it tight. He shook his head, his ears feeling a bit hot. “It doesn’t hurt. The mark will fade in a couple of days.”
Lu Yuanbai didn’t let go. Instead, he cupped Jiang Yunian’s slightly cool hand with both of his own, lowered his head, and gently breathed warm air onto it. The warm breath brushed over his skin, bringing a tingling itch. Jiang Yunian’s fingers trembled, and this time he successfully pulled his hand back. He looked away somewhat uncomfortably, the heat on his face threatening to rise.
Watching his shy appearance, Lu Yuanbai laughed low. In a good mood, he changed the subject. “Can you help me put it on?”
He shook the scarf in his hand. “I’m not very good at tying scarves. Teach me?”
Meeting his expectant gaze, Jiang Yunian’s heart inexplicably skipped a few beats. He blinked, and his hands took it before his brain could process. Lu Yuanbai was taller than him; he had to stand on his tiptoes slightly to reach the back. The soft fabric wrapped gently around Lu Yuanbai’s neck. His cool fingertips grazed the other’s warm skin, causing tiny shivers.
Lu Yuanbai cooperated by lowering his head slightly. His gaze passed through Jiang Yunian’s trembling eyelashes, landing on that flushed face.
“Yunian, you look really good.”
Jiang Yunian’s eyelashes trembled even more violently, hiding some panic, but the heat on his cheeks betrayed him. Lu Yuanbai’s smile deepened. He reached out to touch the soft flesh on Jiang Yunian’s face, then naturally put his arm around his shoulders. “Let’s go, let’s take a walk.”
The two walked slowly along the track. Lu Yuanbai consistently stayed on the windward side, his tall frame blocking most of the chill for Jiang Yunian. The playground was full of noisy crowds and warm lights, contrasting with the cold night sky. Just then, wisps of crystal snowflakes began to drift down from the sky, like falling catkins under the lights.
It wasn’t snowing heavily. The people on the athletic field didn’t leave; instead, the atmosphere became even more enthusiastic. Lu Yuanbai pulled Jiang Yunian to sit on the grass, enjoying the romantic snowy night together.
The night was deep, snowflakes falling silently. The distant noise blurred at this moment.
Jiang Yunian tilted his face up. A cold snowflake happened to land between his eyebrows. The moment he closed his eyes, a warm palm quietly covered his hand, wrapping around his slightly cool fingers.
Jiang Yunian’s body stiffened slightly.
At the same time, at Heaven on Earth.
In a hidden private booth, the lighting was dim and hazy, the air a mix of cold fragrance and alcohol. Jiang Yan leaned alone against the wide sofa, holding half a glass of wine. The phone on the table vibrated; it was a report from a subordinate.
A photo.
Zhou Shu sat opposite him, legs crossed, talking about business. “…Our people have already started selling off those scattered shares according to the plan. When the time is right, even if Qi Liangji realizes he’s been tricked, it will be too late. But…”
He swirled the wine glass in his hand and continued, “That old fox is cunning. He might not fully take the bait. Whether he kept a backup plan is hard to say. We have to…”
Crash…
His words were interrupted by the abrupt sound of shattering glass.
Looking up, he saw the wine glass in Jiang Yan’s hand had been crushed by brute force. Glass shards and wine splashed over his hand, falling in pieces onto the coffee table and carpet—extremely jarring to the eye.
The sudden commotion startled He Qing, who was standing nearby. His wrist trembled, and the wine bottle nearly slipped from his hand. Several flying shards of glass dangerously grazed his uniform.
Zhou Shu reacted extremely fast. Stretching out his long arm, he instantly scooped He Qing into his arms to protect him, frowning tightly, both nervous and displeased. “Who told you to stand so close to him?”
As he spoke, he hurriedly lowered his head to check if any splashes had hit him.
He Qing, clamped in his embrace, struggled but couldn’t break free. His face was cold and expressionless as he glanced up at him. “Didn’t you tell me to pour the wine?”
Zhou Shu choked on his words but remained domineering. “I told you to pour it for me!”
The hand checking him inadvertently changed flavor, beginning to fumble randomly over that alluring figure, the nervousness in his tone appearing slightly deliberate. “Did you get hurt? Hm? Let me see.”
How could He Qing not know he was seizing the opportunity to take advantage? He pushed him hard. “No, let go…”
Zhou Shu didn’t let go. After copping a feel, he looked up to glare at the culprit opposite him. The glass shards in Jiang Yan’s hand had all fallen, leaving trails of wine. A small cut had been sliced into his palm—not obvious, and far less painful than the astringent ache in his heart.
“I’m talking business with you; what kind of fit are you throwing? Wife ran off with someone else?” Zhou Shu said grumpily, hugging He Qing in his arms tighter. “I’m warning you, if you hurt my wife, I’m not done with you.”
The gloom in Jiang Yan’s eyes was gradually suppressed by an extreme iciness. He picked up his phone. The screen was still lit, displaying a photo just received: On the snowy lawn, Jiang Yunian and Lu Yuanbai sat side by side. Jiang Yunian tilted his head slightly watching the falling snow, his profile soft, the corner of his mouth seeming to hold a faint smile. His eyes reflected the distant lights, like fallen starlight. And Lu Yuanbai sat beside him, looking at him.
He flipped the phone over to turn off the screen, trying his best to maintain a surface calm. He pulled out a few tissues, methodically wiping the mess from his hand, turning a deaf ear to Zhou Shu’s words.
After wiping his hands clean, he stood up, ignoring the hungry wolf’s howling, and dropped a single sentence:
“Understood. You handle it.”
Then he left the booth without looking back.
Zhou Shu watched his back disappear at the door, then looked at He Qing in his arms. Holding it in for a long time, he finally muttered a low curse, “Fuck.”
He looked down, nuzzling He Qing’s bangs dotingly. “Scared? It’s okay now… Stay away from that lunatic in the future.”
He Qing didn’t speak. He simply gently broke free from his embrace, tidied his slightly messy clothes, and picked up the wine bottle again. His face returned to that cold, distant look—if one ignored the two slightly reddened tips of his ears…
Author’s Note: Updates have been a bit sporadic these days, might be earlier [Lop-eared Rabbit Head]
Translation note: I haven’t been able to update the translations much lately. So sorry. I was busy.
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